


Saving all my love for you

by ylc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Some angst, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylc/pseuds/ylc
Summary: It's not easy to be in love with your best friend





	1. Though I've tried to resist being last on your list

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I honestly wasn’t even thinking about starting a new fic. I have plenty of WIPs and I really didn’t need another one, but then I was listening to this song this morning and well… this happened.  
> I don’t think it’ll be long, though, because… well, I really shouldn’t. I just wanted to get it out of my system :P But we’ll see, I suppose.

The door closes with a bang, startling Sherlock. He manages to recover quickly though, going back to what John calls his  _ thinking pose _ before his flatmate even notices him lying down on the couch.

“Bad date?” he questions lightly, John being the one startled this time around. Sherlock holds back a smirk, quickly taking in John’s appearance and figuring it’d be wise not to say anything that might annoy John too much.

Although  _ not saying anything  _ would be a bit too out of character and will make John suspicious.

John sighs, collapsing on his usual chair, right in front of where Sherlock is. The taller man offers his friend what he hopes is an encouraging smile and John rolls his eyes, smiling a little too. “I guess you could say so. I should have saved myself the trouble and simply listened to you.”

Sherlock hums in acknowledgment, figuring that elaborating on his earlier deduction might make John mad  _ again  _ and that will lead him no doubt to storm out of the flat and head into the nearest bar, pick up the first person that walks by and come home tomorrow morning stinking of stale beer and sex.

Not a pleasant prospect, to be honest.

“Dinner?” he asks instead, having already noticed the date didn’t go that far. His friend smiles tiredly at him and stands up to go pick up the phone and order some take out. On his way to the kitchen he passes next to Sherlock’s spot and ruffles his hair affectionately.

“What I’d do without you?” he asks with a smile and Sherlock smiles back, hoping against hope it doesn’t look half as pained as it feels.

The real question is what would Sherlock do without John.

* * *

 

He and John had moved into the flat nearly two years ago. John had been living at a small place near Bart’s, but then one of his flatmates had moved to Manchester and the other had dropped out of school and he couldn’t afford the rent on his own, so he had started looking for either some new flatmates or a new place to live.

Which is how he came across Sherlock.

Sherlock hadn’t actually expected their living arrangement to last, but he had been quite out of options. He refused to keep on living with Mycroft and  _ he had standards,  _ so none of the horrible  _ rat nests _ meant for students near the university would work for him. He had come across the flat at Baker Street on one of his late night walks and had liked it immediately. Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, was nice enough and she didn’t seem to care about his… oddities, so he had decided to move there.

He couldn’t pay it on his own though and Mycroft had refused to give him any more money, so he had figured a flatmate was the best he could do.

Mike Stanford, a fellow student in John’s class who happened to know Sherlock from all of his working hours at the lab had introduced them and the rest, as the saying goes, was history.

They had been merely polite to each other at first, neither taking a real interest in the other. Of course Sherlock had noticed John was attractive and seemed to have no qualms about seducing nearly the whole school, but he had dismissed this vital piece of information, foolishly categorizing it as  _ not important.  _ This is a mistake he has come to regret dearly, naturally, but he supposes he was quite justified; after all, had John simply remained his polite but distant flatmate-

But then Sherlock had arrived slightly injured one night after a particularly nasty fight with a smuggler that the Yard had been too incompetent to catch in time and John had insisted on looking after him. This had lead to Sherlock explaining  _ how  _ he became injured in the first place and John had been quite interested, which had lead them to strike a tentative friendship, with John accompanying him every now and then to his cases.

Sherlock sighs. He hadn’t had any friends growing up, having always been  _ the weird one.  _ People tended to avoid him and his deductions tended to annoy most, so he had always lead a somewhat lonely existence. John had changed that in less than a couple of months and soon he had found himself irremediably trapped in John’s orbit.

He hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, honestly and he suspected John hadn’t wanted that either; it’s painfully obvious John likes him, but just as a friend and he’s not even remotely attracted to him. So Sherlock has been careful to keep his emotions in check: having been doing this since forever, it hasn’t been as hard as he had feared, although there are times-

He spares a quick look in John’s direction. His friend is sitting at his desk, typing away on his computer. Something blog related, no doubt, judging by the way he pauses, thinks and bites his lip every few minutes, trying to come up with fancy ways to make Sherlock’s cases sound more interesting.

Tonight’s date didn’t go well and so John came back home to him; they ate together and watched telly for a while, Sherlock indulging himself by sitting next to his friend as close as possible on the couch. It’s not always like this though; in fact, more often than not, John goes home with his date and doesn’t come back until the next morning, always looking quite satisfied and Sherlock can’t help the way his heart clenches painfully in his chest, longing and jealousy threatening to overwhelm him.

On the bright side, John rarely dates someone for more than a month and so Sherlock tells himself that while he might never have John  _ like that _ , at least he’s the one he keeps coming back to; he’s the one that has gotten him to stay.

And yet, he knows the day will come when that won’t be the case. Someday John will meet “the One” and it’ll all be over. Of course that day may be way into the future, but he’ll do himself no favours by ignoring the facts: one day John will be gone and he’ll be all alone again.

And what will he do then?

 


	2. But no other man's gonna do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I went back and wrote more. I just don’t know how to do unhappy/open endings :P Also, all my other fics are on a “good place” right now (or what passes as such with me) so… I need my dose of angst ;)  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Sherlock might be pining, but he’s not desperate.

Or at least he likes to think so.

In all truthness, he just doesn’t understand why people think that throwing themselves at the first available person to attempt to  _ move on  _ might work in the long term. As he sees it, being with someone while being in love with someone else is just a recipe for disaster, guaranteed to break hearts all around.

And yet-

He does like Victor. He’s nice and funny and sweet and handsome and smart and- well, he could go on enlisting all his good characteristics; all those things that would make anyone lucky to date him. But it all comes down to the fact that  _ he’s not John Watson  _ and so all the positive and charming qualities in the world won’t make Sherlock  _ love him. _

So he’s been polite, but distant, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to give the boy the  _ wrong idea.  _ He likes him and he does enjoy spending time with him, but that’s never going to go any further and he would appreciate being left alone.

He sighs. If it was that easy, he would attempt dating the other man and see how it went. But he knows it’s not that simply and he refuses to drag someone else into his misery. Just because his best friend and love of his life is completely unattainable, Sherlock is not one to settle for less than what he wants.

So he’d rather stay alone.

It’s certainly easier, in any case.

* * *

 

“I saw Victor leaving,” John says casually, as he sorts through their mail. “He seemed… upset. Did something happened?”

Sherlock shrugs non committedly. How does one go about explaining that the only other person than can stand you has a bit of a crush on you, but since you’re head over heels for someone else you can’t even consider the idea? Particularly when that someone else happens to be the person asking the question?

God, this is difficult.

“Sherlock,” John says very seriously, coming to stand right in front of him and crouching down, so they’re face to face, one hand on Sherlock’s knee to balance himself. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

The assertion is so impossibly wrong Sherlock wants to both laugh and cry, but that will worry John and that’s the last thing he needs. His friend has made it quite clear he’s not interested in Sherlock and so he does his best to hide his feelings. Of course John  _ knows  _ (or at least he must strongly suspect) but as long as Sherlock isn’t very obvious about it, he figures they’ll be alright.

There’s nothing more important than their friendship and he’ll do anything to preserve it. 

Even ignoring his eternally aching heart.

“It’s really nothing, John,” he replies easily, ignoring the way his heart clenches inside his chest. “He just… we don’t want the same thing.” And boy, isn’t that phrasing appropriate?

John frowns, but doesn’t comment, instead drawing comforting circles over Sherlock’s knee. The younger man’s heart skips a beat, but he manages to keep his face blank and not be too obvious about how much he’s enjoying the contact.

“Alright then,” his friend says, standing up and Sherlock forces himself not to let out a whine at the lost of contact. “I’m here if you need anything, though,” he adds, moving towards the kitchen and Sherlock hums in acknowledgment. “Although if I may say something- maybe you should give it a go. He seems…” He seems to have trouble finding an appropriate adjective and Sherlock arches an eyebrow sardonically. “Nice,” he finished lamely and Sherlock snorts.

“Hardly a good basis for a relationship, John,” Sherlock protests, closing his eyes and willing his erratic beating heart to calm down. “I don’t think it’d end well in any case.”

John hums. “You’ll never know until you try,” he replies and Sherlock can hear him rummaging around the kitchen, no doubt looking for- “do you want some tea?”

“Please,” Sherlock says, a small smile on his lips. John doesn’t particularly like discussing anything remotely emotional and so he often distracts himself preparing tea while they have a _ serious _ conversation. 

“What is a good basis for a relationship, then?” his friend asks and Sherlock feels a spark of anger, wondering briefly if John is being purposely cruel or if he’s just this oblivious.

He thinks it’s the second. “I’ve been told a solid friendship usually is,” he answers, his voice steady despite the lump lodged on this throat. “A share of mutual interests, similar personalities…”

John huffs. “Well, good luck with that,” he says, smiling teasingly. “You’re one in a kind, Sherlock Holmes.”

Doesn’t he know it? “My point exactly.”

John looks sad for a beat, but he recovers quickly. “I suppose that makes sense, although I like to think we’re good friends and yet we’re not very similar. At least I don’t think so? So maybe if you give it a go, you’ll find that’s not really ne-”

Sherlock closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

Sherlock glares, standing up abruptly, his chest feeling suddenly too tight. Is he mocking him now? No, he doesn’t think John would be this cruel, although maybe-

“Sherlock? Did I say something?”

He doesn’t answer, instead storming into his room and making sure to slam the door close after him. His heart feels entirely too heavy and there are tears pricking the back of his eyes, but he refuses to cry. He has cried far too much on account of his unrequited love and he’s not pathetic enough to do it once again.

He has his pride after all.

Even if that’s a cold comfort.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I know it’s short but well… bear with me, pretty please?  
> Thanks for reading!   
> Also, on another note, I feel very awkward about doing this, but I might have made some… questionable financial choices and so money is a little tight right now (not worriedly so, but yeah, a little) so I set up a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A480QWC) account. If you guys had any money to spare I’d be most thankful! ;)

**Author's Note:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> Since I just really wanted to get this out of my brain, I guess I could leave it like this, but I’m not really fond of sad open endings, so… well. I think there’ll be more although I guess we’ll see how inspired I am :P  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!  
> Also English is not my native language, so any mistakes you find, please point them out!  
> You can also find me in [tumblr](http://ylc1.tumblr.com/)


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